


The Hunter's Requiem

by Thighkyuu



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Destiny, Destiny OC, My OC - Freeform, destiny awoken, destiny hunter, huntersrequiem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighkyuu/pseuds/Thighkyuu
Summary: Her name was Kessira Zeani.She was Awoken.She was a Hunter.She was dead.This is her remembrance.





	1. 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> An Awoken Hunter who’s been dead for years, Kessira “Kess” Zeani isn’t idly boasting when she says she can take down almost any target. One of, if not the, best snipers of her time, her calm, confident demeanor while on the hunt hides a “talk shit, get hit” attitude, a loaded gun smile, and a penchant for throwing down.

She had never lost her sniper before.

The weapon was a trusted companion, an extension of herself. She never left it behind, and she'd never lost it. But now it lay broken at her feet, the metal twisted and bent and irreparable. She felt her insides twist, her anger rise. Her friend might as well have died. She took a deep breath, observing the corpses around her. She didn't have much time before the next wave.

She snatched her automatic rifle up, checked the ammo. Enough for two rounds of bullets. Not enough to hold off another hoard. She looked around once more, eyes roaming over the abandoned cars and barren landscape. There were screams, unholy screeches that were the telltale sign of Fallen, in the distance.

_What a shit place to die,_ she thought to herself, closing her eyes for a moment. The screams were getting closer, battle cries rolling across the distance between her and the army of Fallen. She used the scope on the rifle, zeroing in on the Fallen in the distance. They were almost within range... there!

She emptied her ammo clips into thr heads of several Fallen, but more always rose up to take their place. The last of her ammo spent, she knelt behind a mangled car, throwing her rifle aside. She pulled her knife from its sheath, held it close to her chest, took a deep breath.

_This is a shit place to die,_ her internal voice repeated, _but I will die on my feet, fighting. I will take as many enemies with me as I can._

Her fingers tightened around the handle of the knife, and she rose, eyes filled with the determination of someone facing the firing squad and refusing the blindfold.

The Fallen were swarming now, even as some fell to her knife more appeared in her vision. This would be her last fight, her last stand.

Her name was Kessira Zeani.

She was Awoken.

She was a Hunter.

She was dead.


	2. 1.2

She opened her eyes to the sun.

There was a voice, too, but it seemed distant, muffled. Her limbs were heavy, her body barely responding to her commands. It was as if she'd been in a coma.

The last thing she remembered was Fallen, her knife gripped tightly in her hand as she shoved it into ones' skull, a stabbing pain in her chest, then nothing. Darkness.

Hell, maybe she _had_ been in a coma.

"Guardian... Guardian?" There was that voice again, but less muffled this time. Closer to her. Her head jerked in the direction of the sound, but her movements were still slow. Her eyes found the source - a Ghost. It was whirring, looking at her. "Eyes up, Guardian!" That snapped her awake. She was still dazed, her whole body still felt heavy, and she figured she'd been put through the ringer. But the Ghost had called her Guardian. It had chosen her to get back up and fight.

She would not disappoint it.


	3. 1.3

Breathe in, take the shot, breathe out.

That was what she had been taught. It was her seven-word mantra, a rule to live by. When sniping, always breathe in, take your shot, then breathe out. It steadied your hand, gave you clarity, lined up your shot. The world could be going to shit around her, but as long as she could breathe in, take the shot, then breathe out, she'd be alright. She'd hit her mark. In fact, she almost always hit her mark. When she spoke of being able to take down a hard target, it was never an idle boast, nor simple arrogance.

It was sheer confidence in her ability.

But, in her current situation, the time it took to properly aim was not a luxury she had access to. Fallen reinforcements were on their way, getting closer by the second, and she knew she needed to be gone when they got there. She wasn't at her full strength yet. And that meant a lot of running and shooting.

She looked over her shoulder, checking for stray Fallen. She had to wonder why the Ghost chose her. Why she was the important one, the one chosen to be a Guardian, to protect and save. She was just a Hunter. A good shot, yes, but that surely wasn't the sole reason she had been brought back to life.

She hissed as a stray shot grazed past her cheek, close enough that she could feel the heat of it. She aimed her rifle, preparing to fire. Answers would have to wait.

She dispatched the Fallen and moved forward through an empty room. She was so close to the ship the Ghost had located. So close to relative safety. She moved carefully forward toward the open room, crouching behind a wall and pulling out the sniper rifle she'd found. She almost breathed a sigh of relief.

It felt good to have a sniper rifle in her hands again. It was like coming home.

Her eyes searched the room, darting around at the slightest movements. An arm here, a leg there. The flash of a helmet. She knew the height of her enemy, and the next time she saw a flash of something, she fired without hesitation. There was a thud as its corpse hit the floor, then silence. Eerie, horrible, silence.

Then the screaming began.

The battle cry of the Fallen roared around her and she readied her rifle, aiming next for the largest of the Fallen. The leader. His head was in her sights.

_Breathe in._

Time seemed to slow, just for a moment. Long enough to ensure her trajectory. Now came her favourite part, the kick of the rifle, the slight ringing in her ears from the noise, the satisfaction of the bullet hitting the target.

_Take the shot._

The Fallen leader dropped like a sack of rocks, and she couldn't help but grin. Her muscles ached. Her head was spinning. The was pretty sure she had a few scorch marks and some cuts and bruises. But she still had her aim.

_Breathe out._


End file.
